Two To
by FFFG
Summary: Zoro and Sanji are in this stupid competition together. Only two more weeks will determine whether or not they'll kill one another or be driven insane. AU, TwoShot plus, ZoSan. Written for the ZoSan Valentines Exchange on tumblr. Happy V-Day eyerispez!
1. It takes two to

**A/N: Howdy all! This was written for the ZoSan Valentines Exchange, specifically for eyerispez, who's challenge for me was the tango! I actually have no clue how dancing works, nor do I actually watch television, so basically everything here is based off of Google and YouTube searches. Hope it's to your enjoyment eyerispez! Happy Valentine's Day!**

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><p>Sanji slammed the door to his dressing room. He was furious with that bumbling, green-haired moron they had the gall to pair him with. Surely, as the star in this pairing, he should have had a choice as to whom he would dance with.<p>

A quick flick of his lighter and a deep inhale later, Sanji started listing off the steps to his favorite cake recipe in attempt to calm down. He paced agitatedly for a few moments before throwing himself into the cushions of the small chaise the studio had provided him with.

He pulled another drag on his cigarette as he went over the disaster that was their latest rehearsal. The idiot kept turning to the left when he was meant to be reaching his arm over to catch Sanji and dip him. The resulting lack of support sent Sanji crashing to the floor and the grass-headed idiot, without Sanji's counter weight, spinning and almost stepping on the celebrity chef.

"How that graceless moron is a dancer I'll never know." Sanji murmured to himself. He had almost finished his cigarette before a tentative knock sounded on his door. Sanji grumbled permission for whatever hapless lackey the studio sent over to smooth his ruffled feathers to enter. The small, pink haired boy with tacky glasses opened the door cautiously and entered the room, near hiding behind his oversized clipboard.

"Excuse me, Mr. LeNoir," the poor boy managed to say without stuttering, even if he was shaking like a leaf. "The studio has asked when you will be returning to the set so we can film more of the practice."

Sanji nearly bit the filter off the burning stub in his mouth. "Tell the Studio," Sanji pantomimed air quotations around 'studio' and continued, "that I'll be willing to return when they are willing to replace that barbarian in ballet slippers with a competent dancer."

The poor gopher, Kory, or something along those lines stared firmly at his clipboard and bit his lip as he screwed up his courage. "We've – we've had this dis-discussion before, Mr. LeNoir. You were cast with Mr. Roronoa for the ratings, and the studio isn't going to change that at this late a date."

Ah yes, the ratings…

Sanji expelled the last breath of smoke from his lungs and crushed the smoldering remains of the cigarette in the ashtray on the side table. He sat still and stared momentarily at the ceiling as he thought over the circumstances that had led him here.

This two-bit show, which was once one of the best in the "Reality TV" category, had done so many seasons that interest had waned, and the ratings had dropped. The marketing execs decided that they would give the traditional formula a few twists in attempt to keep them from being cancelled.

Thus a casting call was made to the praised, young, devilishly handsome (if he did say so himself) celebrity chef. Sanji knew he was fairly recognizable while not being an A-list superstar, and thus still within the show's budget. As he was well-known for being bi-sexual, the executives asked if it would be alright if they could pair him with one of the male professionals for the show's duration.

Sanji had mulled over the decision for a while, trying to decide whether or not he could take time off from his restaurant and cooking show to film the newest season. He asked some of his closest friends whether or not he should. Some were against it, saying it would sully his reputation. Others were for it, saying he could get his face out to a broader audience, and hopefully gain some new followers for his own show.

Sanji was torn for a while, but had ultimately succumbed to the idea. Really, the chance to flex his neglected muscles and capture the hearts of more followers was enough of a pull to get him to sign the contract. The money was just an added bonus.

He was introduced to the guy the higher ups had paired him with. At first Sanji wasn't sure how he landed the gorgeous man, all defined muscle and chiseled jaw, as his "professional". Then the muscle head opened his mouth and it was history in the making.

Foul attitude, sneering countenance and a disdain for any and all of the 'celebrities' the show hitched him with. Needless to say it set Sanji's teeth grinding and he regretted his decision ever since. Only now he was contractually obligated to perform, and have all those damnable rehearsals filmed. The only way to back out now, without losing any and all manly pride, would be getting injured. Sanji was almost at the point where faking an injury would be preferable than having to deal with that inadequate idiot.

Watching the pink haired boy shaking in fear of Sanji's (admittedly volatile) temper, he reminded himself that he got himself into this mess, and that he shouldn't be taking it out on this poor kid. He gave a rather overdone sigh and waved mindlessly at the youth. "Tell them I'll be back in ten."

With an audible gulp the boy turned and ran from the dressing room as fast as he could scamper. Sanji laid his head back on the seat cushion and closed his eyes as he recounted the list of desserts, in alphabetical order, that he was writing for his newest cookbook. By the time he reached "quatre-quarts", he felt he was calm enough to face the next few grueling hours of filming.

Lighting one last smoke, Sanji made his way to the studio that had been designated for him and his inept partner. He mindlessly ground the filter into the carpet as his last little rebellion against the studio, took a deep breath, and pushed the doors open to face the music.

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>Zoro was grinding his teeth as he watched the blond drama queen rage his way out of the practice hall and off to who-knows-where. There were times when he wished he could just 'accidentally' fall and crush the prissy cook beneath him. If Chef Boyardee broke a rib he'd be out of the competition and out of Zoro's hair once and for all.<p>

Then Zoro would remember the money he would be losing out on. Not to mention the prestige of being a finalist once again. So far he had the highest record of wins with his various celebrity fall-downs. Robin was close behind him though, a fact that drove him to excel as much as possible. He'd never forgive himself if he lost that top spot. Even if it meant he had to put up with that annoying cook-cum-celebrity that thought he could dance better than a man who'd dedicated himself to the art.

The problem was the retard kept trying to dip too early. The dance Zoro had choreographed had the moron spinning out, back in, side stepping and THEN dipping. The idiot just didn't seem to understand that. He kept trying to lead when he had no business doing so.

Zoro heaved a sigh and massaged his temples with one hand. To the left of him he heard Johnny, one of the cameramen, sidle up to get a good shot of his face. When Zoro refused to react or say any more on the subject Johnny backed away.

It was only a matter of time, after all. The second Mr. Fancy-Pants left the hall to rage, one of the studio's little twerps chased after him to, most likely, bring him back to finish the session. Zoro went over the routine in his head once again to see if he could simplify it any more for the rhythmically challenged dolt. It really was a testament to his skill that he could pull so many of these useless celebrity clowns to the final round of the competition.

As it was, he and the royal pain in his ass had managed to lumber along to week eight together. Most of that was probably because of the fanfare around them being the only same gendered couple to dance in the show's history. It was a gimmick, a ploy the execs were using to try and gain back some of the audience that had strayed to newer and more exciting (well, let's be honest: equally mindless) programs. It was working.

Since the first show he and the curly-browed menace were fan favorites. Reviews of all kinds attributed their popularity to everything from their looks and intensity on the dance floor, to the now famous behind-the-scenes battles that were highlighted in almost every episode. Zoro blamed it on the general perverseness of the watching public.

Granted, when he first saw the chef he was to whip into shape his eyes lingered over the endless legs he would get to work with: long, slender and with a lingering sense of flexibility. Then the brainless slop-slinger lit up a smoke and gave him one of those condescending looks that Zoro couldn't stand. All of these celebrity fools thought they were so much better than other people, and that made Zoro's hackles rise.

So he had reacted like he always had: sarcasm and disrespect. And, just like every other joker Zoro was made to deal with, the superior smirk fell off that handsome face and contempt took its place. Zoro loved it when he pushed them so far as to actually say, "how dare you!" Ah, sweet music to his ears.

In the weeks that followed Zoro dealt with more of the same; temper-tantrums and whining when he pushed the haughty prince to the point where he was barely competent. There were times when Zoro could admit that the leggy blond had real potential, but those were few and far between. Still, his original assessment wasn't too far off, the man WAS flexible.

Their performances were always charged with energy. While mostly that worked in their favour, as the judges always complimented the synchronicity with which they danced, Zoro and that snooty nuisance knew the truth. This was more than just a show; this was a damnable competition between them to prove who really was better.

They both KNEW Zoro was the better dancer. Again, he WAS the professional. The cook though, he was determined to prove he could be just as capable with minimum direction. Unfortunately for Zoro he could respect that drive to excel, and would (begrudgingly) admit that he was more adept at picking up the moves than most of the other sorry excuses he had dealt with over the years.

If only the bull headed idiot could accept criticism without taking it as some personal slight, Zoro thought they might actually have gotten along. Every other useless tit he had the misfortune of dancing with on this waste of airtime knew better than to argue with him when it came to the performances. Either that or they were more conscious of the cameras rolling and were playing to them like the phonies that they were.

The cook though…

Zoro had taken a night to actually watch an episode or two of the pompous airhead's show. The man was all passion. Every move, every word, the man teemed with it, infusing every facet of himself with fire. If Zoro spat acid at him, the blonde would reciprocate with twice as much. Insult for insult, gesture for gesture the cook challenged Zoro's patience in a way no other had before; and damn him if it wasn't a rush.

He'd never connected with any of the other partners he'd been given before. Most were either too vain to see past their reflections, or were only interested in generating a 'buzz' to inflate their meager status. Well, that's not entirely true. Nami, the weather woman from the national news station two seasons ago, they'd had a great time. Probably one of the only people he'd ever met who could keep up with him in a drinking contest and still be up bright and early for rehearsal the next day.

They'd only kept in touch so far because they lived in the same town and Zoro was sure she was using him as an excuse to get closer to Rob. Since the first time they'd met Nami had an (in Zoro's opinion) unhealthy interest in his fellow dancer. Every competition night Nami would wander over to Rob and his (then) partner Califa and strike up a conversation.

She was pretty easy to hang with, and while Zoro thought she was as close to a witch as he'd ever met, they were good friends. There were no romantic entanglements there, despite what rag-mags claimed. And while he could easily have seen himself hooking up with her, he'd rather keep his money and his balls.

Sanji, though. Damn if he couldn't just envision the time they'd have if left to their own devices. He had, in fact, most nights after they competed. There was little more thrilling than a perfect score. A perfect score with that bastard riling him up, pressing every button and matching him move for move; that was exhilarating.

Speaking of his personal paradox, there's the cocky bastard now. Skulking back into the practice room, smelling strongly of smoke and with a look on his face that screamed, "I'm keeping my temper, so you'd better behave." Zoro wondered how long it would take for him to get from 'clenched jaw' to 'hair pulling'. He guessed about four corrections.

"Done with your lifestyle break, princess?" Zoro couldn't help but ask. He knew, down to the very marrow of his bones, that the blond couldn't stand that tone of voice; probably why he used it as often as he could.

Sanji went from 'clenched jaw' to 'closed fist' immediately. Zoro's smirk wasn't helping matters, but then again, half of their popularity was with the practice-room verbal spats they always devolved into. Johnny and Yosaku had their cameras trained on both of them as Sanji slowly walked closer to Zoro, fists held tightly to his sides.

"Go over the blocking again, shit for brains." He ground out. Zoro's smug countenance dropped as he got down to business. Explaining slowly he moved throughout the dance step by step, move for move. Adjusting Sanji's gait if he stepped to wide, holding up a leg or arm so that Sanji could get the feel for where he needed to be, and tilting the angle of that stupidly handsome face. Zoro left no aspect of the dance untouched.

Even the costumes they were going to be wearing that Friday Zoro had a hand in designing. He'd met early yesterday with Usopp to get the artist to sketch out what Zoro asked for. He'd dropped the sketches to Kin'emon to be fashioned by Thursday so that they could have their dress rehearsal run through at least a day before the rest of the competition.

Zoro's heavy handedness for this particular week, this particular dance, was all because of the genre: Tango. Normally the tango was such a gender biased, profoundly machismo dance. He knew that, the judges certainly knew that, so he needed to step up his game to get the top score.

He had always skated by on the tango. Normally he just went with relatively tame choreography for this dance. The reason being that so many of the celebrities thought they knew this dance already and would try all the more to give Zoro 'advice' on what they should do.

They knew nothing. Tango was more than just leg kicks and staring into the other's face. There was history to this dance, a story to it. It wasn't just migrant fusion or smelly gauchos; it was an art where a man displayed a woman's beauty and grace. And while the dumb cook had both in spades, he couldn't just run par for the course with him. There needed to be a true display of skill. Zoro had to up the ante.

Zoro queued up the music they would be dancing to in preparation of starting real time run-throughs. They'd gone over the blocking for the past hour and the prissy prima donna had managed to keep to the steps Zoro outlined. He was going to start speeding things up now and putting the blond through his paces.

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>Sanji gulped down water greedily as he watched the brute stumble over to the music system. They'd run through this stupid dance for the past hour and a half with those irritating cameras in his face. Sanji was about ten-seconds away from smacking that tattooed dick-bag of a cameraman if he came any closer.<p>

The loud, quick beats of La Cumparsita started blaring through the sound system. Moss-for-brains had told Sanji which song he was planning of dancing to and, just like every week, advised him to download it and listen to it so he would have a feel for it when the time came to dance. Sanji had done so and was confident he could sing the damn song back to him if he so desired.

"We're going to start going over the tricky part in the middle. I want to get that part down before we move onto the easier stuff." The dumbass explained. Sanji took another quick gulp of water before rising up to meet his dancer in the middle of the room.

They came together, chests close with the pickled prick's leading left hand clutching Sanji's right. Together they stepped in time to the beat, walking Sanji backwards with short, quick dragging steps. Suddenly Sanji was turned around so that his back pressed against a brawny chest. Sanji threw his arms into the air as he had been instructed and had to hold back a blush as the ape pantomimed undoing a button that was non-existent on his workout clothes. He brought his arms down sharply, as though offended by the act and effectively separating the two.

Sanji then turned to face his partner, both had their hands going to the pockets of their respective pants, and Sanji leaned forward and touched his forehead to Zoro's. This was the only point of contact between them as they followed the next six bars of music in a strange show off that the muscle head had described as a "fight for dominance." The "fight" ended with a spin that kept their heads still together throughout, but had Sanji as the victor as Zoro immediately began stepping back with Sanji closely following.

Hands left pockets and rejoined with Sanji now leading the dance. He could readily admit that he loved these opportunities. It wasn't often he was allowed to lead so openly. This dance, however, was filled with both of them trading the lead back and forth. It was thrilling.

Several steps and kicks later saw Sanji setting up for the only bit of acrobatics where he was to be the support for the moss-haired man. Typically it was Sanji who was draped around the tall pillar of muscles and displayed as the treat for the audience. This time, however, he was going to be the one carrying the other man. Tensing the muscles in his legs in anticipation of the weight he was about to take on Sanji pivoted sharply to the left and, with a shifting of both of their weights, braced the green-haired dancer as he swung up to the right and hung suspended in the air at shoulder height.

Half a second later he came back to Earth where Sanji was waiting to catch him and led the inelegant bastard into a dip. Success!

By some mutual and unspoken command, both stopped dancing there and stood. The dancing dick quickly paused the music and came back to give Sanji his critique.

"Overall that was okay for a first run through. You're going to need to be tighter on the turn with the heads and you need to quit arcing your leg so high when you kick, but otherwise not bad."

That was it? Normally there was a pit of acid spewing from the other man about his performance. Clearly his expression said SOMETHING to the other man as he rushed to further explain his comments.

"The kicks shouldn't be going so high. It's throwing off your timing. The higher you go, the longer it takes to get your legs back down. While it's not every day I have to argue with someone about kicking TOO high, with you it seems to be a chronic problem.

Coming from another source, Sanji might have been flattered. This ass-hat, however, guaranteed that Sanji would take it as a personal affront.

"Funny how you always seem to bring up 'chronic problems' that I have. Now my kicks are too much for your delicate dancer's constitution?"

Sanji watched the shade of red deepen from 'exertion' to 'anger' on the other man's face. Good. If Sanji was going to be criticized he wanted everyone around him to feel slighted right along with him.

"Damned asshole!" the green menace spat. "There is such a thing as constructive criticism, you know that? Stop taking every little thing I say like I'm blasting insults about your mom."

"Now you want to bring my mother into this?" Sanji threw right back. If the bastard wanted to start in on genetics or parents he'd find Sanji loaded with material at the ready.

Instead of starting a bickering match though, the idiot just grabbed his hair in frustration and circled back to the music system. "We're doing it again. Watch your kicks, tighten the circle." He ground out between clenched teeth.

"Like hell we are. I'm going out for a 'chronic problem' break. We've been at this for almost two hours and I need a chance to look at some green not growing from your ugly mug." Sanji turned without waiting for a response and strut through the doors outside. He could see in the reflection of the glass the little spasm of irritation the other man's body flew into and smiled around the filter of his cigarette.

_Too easy._

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>After the unscheduled break, the blond returned to the hall without a studio toady having to go collect him. They managed to get in some steady practice with only a few arguments interrupting the flow. Zoro felt, for the most part, that the dance was coming along fairly well, and they just might make something show worthy together. At the very least he knew he would win points for originality.<p>

After all, the tango was a dance for the lead to show their partner's best assets. Zoro was certainly showcasing his partner's assets, along with a few of his own, but the challenge here was that since both of them were men, the audience, and ultimately the judges, were going to be watching for the traditional roles. Zoro was doing his best to throw that concept out the window. Both he and Sanji were men, and neither would take to the traditional roles well.

So Zoro had choreographed a war. He and the dining diva would fight over that top spot, would throw those conventional dynamics away in favor of a performance that would linger in memories for years to come.

They wrapped up the session with an extra 15 minutes of film for the studio to edit at their whim. Most likely the arguments would make it to the show instead of the 'boring' footage of practice. Whatever. As long as he got the public vote he didn't care. Bag packed, Zoro turned to the curly-brow with an open hand.

"Good practice, for the most part. We're going out for drinks, you're always invited." And he always was. Zoro had extended the offer every night after practice when there was a meet up planned by the dancers and their partners. The cook had yet to join them for the ritual. As it was the pampered chef looked down at Zoro's extended hand with a face that practically screamed 'piss off.'

"Thanks but no thanks. I've got shit to do." Without any other words, or even taking Zoro's outstretched hand, the blond turned and headed out the doors with a half-hearted wave. Zoro retracted his hand and watched the other man walk away; glad the cameras were gone so there would be no evidence of him watching the sway of those enticing hips.

"More for me." He uttered to no one. Hiking the bag over his shoulder, Zoro headed back to his own apartment where he got ready for a night out on the town.

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>Sanji tried not to rush as he walked out on the other man and his offer. He'd love to agree and go out, but he just couldn't trust himself to drink around that bastard. Doubtlessly he would make an ass out of himself and lose what little respect he'd earned from the dancer.<p>

That or he'd try to kiss him, and he couldn't have that either.

So far their verbal sparring had kept any gossip about a love interest between the two out of the magazines. Their genuine dislike for each other had convinced everyone that there was nothing between them. It was a problem Sanji had caught on to when he was deciding whether or not to join the show. There was always some speculation about any relationship between celebrities and their partners.

Luckily enough the dim-witted dancer and he got along like a grease fire and water, a fact that attributed to their popularity. So there were no raunchy news stories being fabricated about them that would affect Sanji's own show or ratings. He was trying to keep his name in the clear during this whole debacle and was, so far, succeeding.

That being said, he sometimes couldn't help but wish there was something going on. The chance to have that chiseled body beneath him, or above him, or behind him, or really in any position his addled mind could come up with, enflamed his thoughts every damn night after practice. It wasn't his fault, really. He'd dealt with the man's hands on him for hours and hours, directing Sanji where to go with nothing more satisfying than a stretch to show for it. He'd love to show that Disco Dru what he could really do in terms of the horizontal mambo.

What was wrong with him? Sure the guy looked amazing, and maybe his voice could cause Sanji's knees to weaken if used in the right tone. And granted Sanji had imagined all sorts of moves the dancer could do to him with that strong, toned and tanned body that was built like a – NO!

Not again. He would not go home hard again. He would not jerk off to the memory of the man's hands on him, his voice in his ear, his hips swinging, his hands reaching, his ass… NO DAMMIT NO!

Sanji stopped for a brief moment to light up a cigarette. Breathing out the smoke he stared up to the darkening sky. He really wanted this show over and done with. Maybe then he could take up the marimo on his offer to go out. Maybe see what could come out of it then.

Until then Sanji would just have to make do with ignoring the problem (or when that proved impossible, take matters into his own hands.)

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>The next two days ran past in a flurry of practices, quick meals and faster music. Kin'emon dropped by late Thursday morning to drop off the costumes Zoro had ordered. He threw one bag at the blond and took the other into the small room at the back of the hall to change into.<p>

By the time the chef returned from his changing room, Zoro had donned the suit Kin'emon had put together. Well-tailored black slacks clung tight to his hips but left enough room for manoeuvring. The English-cut jacket was fastened, barely showing off the pressed shirt underneath, and decorated with subtle embroidery was only noticed when light hit the darker stitching just right.

All in all Zoro was pleased with Kin'emon's work; he usually was. That man had a gift when it came to costumes. Zoro tried hard not to let his gaze linger too long over the chef, lest his lecherous thoughts be known. He knew the ponce would look good – that WAS the point after all – but if he stopped to admire the man properly, Zoro knew he'd be in trouble.

So Zoro queued up the music, motioned to the centre of the dance floor and held his arms stiffly behind his back, waiting for one well-dressed wimp to get into position. Once he was there Zoro flicked the play button on the music system's remote. Quickly pocketing the controller Zoro held his left arm aloft with the third beat.

Following the unspoken command Sanji walked in time to Zoro's side, only to stop just shy of Zoro's reach. Waiting for two more beats Zoro took an embellished step towards the blond, hooked his left arm around Sanji's waist and captured his left hand in Zoro's right. Together they moved, Zoro leading the pair back with sharp, even steps.

The duo moved in synchronicity, sweeping a circle in the middle of the dance floor. At the first real juncture in the music his partner spun himself out of Zoro's arms and, when he started to spin back in, Zoro shifted his weight to the right foot and caught the swirly-browed cook by the waist. He lifted him to shoulder height only for the flexible man to splay himself over Zoro's shoulder and lay back-to-back with the dancer, his legs poised artfully to the side of Zoro's neck. Zoro spun twice with the leggy blond held securely, one arm providing a counter to those deceptively strong legs, the other grasping the man's right arm, which had curled itself around Zoro's waist.

However, instead of dropping his partner to the front, as would be expected, Zoro let loose the other man's legs and Sanji slithered to the floor behind Zoro, catching himself into a handstand and pulling his legs, one at a time, to stand near bent in half until rising with a flourish.

Then, with a loud crash of brass booming from the speakers the chef pressed on the dancer's right shoulder, and Zoro exaggerated the turn with arms rising, only to be caught by Sanji and immediately led into the next set.

_So far so good. _

The blond was keeping time as Zoro found himself being led around the floor with a confidence not unexpected. Zoro was not fond of letting the lead go to a less experienced dancer, but the cook held firm, stepped with conviction and gave the most rakish grin Zoro had ever seen when he knew he was doing everything right.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Zoro forced his attention back to the dance. There was a mis-step there, something he'd have to bring up during post-dance discussion. The bratty blond set up for the slow lunges and Zoro readied himself for another switch in lead. The next part would bring them technicality points so Zoro sharpened his focus to pay attention to every step.

After rising from the lunge Zoro released their hands and took Sanji's grip from his waist and forced the other man into a spin. When his other half stopped Zoro quickly took up the lead and danced the duo into a tight circle of ochos, long steps, and kicks so sharp they could cut. The footwork here was some of the most complex Zoro had ever choreographed. He knew the peacock got off on a challenge and damn if he wasn't rising to meet every expectation.

Left, right, partner cross left, ocho, right, kick. On and on, for several long bars of music their torsos remained staccato while their feet did all of the talking for them. Zoro pushed forwards. _I want you_. Sanji pivoted and kicked behind himself. _It's not that easy_. Zoro sent them into a windmill. _I'm not afraid of a challenge_. Sanji stepped closer into Zoro's space. _I'm more than you can handle_.

The duo was approaching the next shift in lead. Zoro spun the lithe figure around and pulled him tight against his chest. The other man's arms flew into the air as Zoro's encircled him and playfully pulled the two buttons holding his vest together apart.

Zoro's arms were suddenly jolted from the man's clothes by a swift cutting motion. A red faced chef turned on him and pressed their foreheads together. Zoro's hands automatically fell back to his pockets, but he decided in that moment to only hook his thumbs into the space and that the rest of his fingers should splay over his hips. He made a mental note to tell the enticing entertainer to do the same.

Together they shifted back and forth with only an intense stare and a brief touch of the heads connecting them. At the bandoneon's flourish they spun and Zoro broke the stalemate, stepping back, Sanji in hot pursuit. The celebrity took up the lead once more and commanded Zoro about the floor: pushing him down into quick dips, spiralling about with almost dizzying speed, crossing their steps in an impressive display of footwork. Sanji was a little faster than the music, another point of discussion for later.

Still they came to Zoro's lift soon enough. The snob snapped his hips to the left, Zoro held his breath as he vaulted into the air, hung suspended and then crashed back to Earth in a controlled spin that left him staring up into blue eyes.

Zoro hung still in the dip for another two beats before being pulled up into his partner's chest. He felt hands inside his jacket slip up to his shoulders and abruptly pull it open and to his elbows. Stepping free of those wandering hands, Zoro shucked the jacket and crashed back into Sanji, wresting the lead once more. Together they dance in a clipped circle, twisting their steps around one another, crossing legs into one another's space and small kicks and flourishes going behind each man or in between the other's legs as the choreography decreed.

Zoro spun and lowered his partner down, whose left leg slipped out throughout the turns in a provocative display. The twit was then wrenched back up and splayed across Zoro's chest, hands behind Zoro's neck and feet held flat against Zoro's legs. Zoro held tight to the blond's waist and kept him supported as the music began to slow.

Sanji stepped down and away from Zoro's chest and they remained facing the same direction for a few lingering beats. When Zoro moved to reclaim his partner Sanji spun quickly, grabbed Zoro and threw him back into a dramatic dip that held Zoro suspended only a scant few inches off the ground. The music came to an end as they held the tableau, panting their quickened breaths.

After the requisite three seconds, and one more for good measure, Sanji helped Zoro to stand. Zoro loved the last minute spectacle of the dance. They had traded the lead so often but still with Zoro dominating throughout. That last defiance matched the fiery chef's personality perfectly and he hoped it would land them the win despite the unconventional routine.

He watched the curly browed idiot walk over to the wall where his bottle of water sat out of the way. The costume looked no worse for wear despite all of the cook's contortions. That was always something he needed to remind Kin'emon about; making Sanji's costumes look right while still maintaining manoeuvrability. It wasn't every day you needed proper men's slacks that could withstand a standing splits.

The vest was still open from their performance and his hair was a little damp from the exertion. Zoro had to look away before he started really taking in the details. That would lead him down a troublesome path he didn't have the time to deal with right now.

The shit cook picked up his pack of cigarettes and motioned to the door that led outside. Zoro nodded and took the opportunity to go over his mental notes of the dance. It wasn't a perfect run through, but it was much better than any other time they had gone through a dress rehearsal for the first time. He'd share his thoughts when the blond returned.

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>Sanji took a cigarette out of the pack and lit up gratefully. Damn, that was one hell of a dance. They'd run through it before, of course, however, it never felt right unless everything was in place: costumes, music, and stupidly handsome dance instructor.<p>

He let out a cloud of smoke as he went over the dance in his head. He knew it hadn't been perfect. There were a couple times when he stepped the wrong way, and he knew Zoro was about ready to ream him for that last dip. The way the prancing prick had looked at him at the end made Sanji feel like there was a chasm that was about to swallow him whole. He simply had to escape before then, needed to calm himself down before facing the unreasonably attractive man.

There was no way it should be legal for another man to look like he did, sound like he did, MOVE like he did without giving something up. Oh, the personality was left wanting, but Sanji couldn't help but be drawn to that as well.

_Deep breath in, deep breath out. _

Looking down at himself, Sanji quickly refastened the buttons on the vest that had been made. He traced his fingers along the soft material and brought back the sensation of Zoro unbuttoning the clothing. _Deep breath in._

His mind flipped immediately to when he got the chance to run his hands up over that ridiculously chiselled chest and practically ripped the jacket off of those broad shoulders. _Deep breath out._

He was so fucked.

Sanji threw the filter on the ground and lit up a second cig. He needed to calm down and stop thinking about Zoro's hands… all over his body. Sanji shook his head and strengthened his resolve. He WOULD stop thinking about his dance partner's hands/face/body and he WOULD go back in there and take his lumps like a real man. He WOULD go over the dance as many times as needed to get everything perfect for tomorrow's contest and they WOULD win.

"Oi, asshole! You done with your breath of poisoned air yet? I'm not going to lose this competition because you can't go ten minutes without killing yourself slowly."

Sanji found himself suddenly grinding the cigarette filter between clenched teeth. Okay, new plan. He WOULD go and kick that moss-headed bastard's head in, bitch in his stupid face for ten minutes, run away to his dressing room to finish calming down, and then go along with the rest of plan A. Good plan.

Sanji turned towards the dance studio, flicking the burning mess over his shoulder, and took a deep breath fully preparing for the argument to ensue. His last lingering thoughts being that there were only two weeks left of this stupid show, and then he could take Zoro up on his offer to go out for drinks.

Two weeks couldn't go fast enough.

~Fin~

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><p><strong>AN: Ta-dah! My first piece of writing in 14 years. Beta'd by (the incredible, remarkable, amazing and fantabulous) BlackBarBooks! (read her stuff! No seriously, go check for updates or something.)**

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	2. Freestyle in the finals

**A/N: Hello all! So I had a couple people asking for another chapter with the competition results and caved to the pressure. So here it is, the final round and the aftermath of ten weeks dancing together. **

**Warning: There is smut. My first attempt at smut ever and I'm sorry and I don't know what I was thinking but I had no choice as the characters were forcing the issue. Readers beware.**

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><p>Sanji was nervous; there was no getting past that. He was biting his lip, pacing backstage and had to keep restraining himself from running a hand through his meticulously styled hair.<p>

This was it, the finale, the end of this horror show.

It would only make sense that he was nervous. Somehow he had managed to make it to the final week of this 'reality TV' trauma and, judging from the performance that the beautiful Robin just gave (along with her partner, that ex-mayor from upstate), he and the moss-haired freak would have their work cut out for them. Sanji doubted anything he and the muscle head could dance compared to Robin's grace, the flow of her dress as that Icecube – or whoever – led her across the floor in sweeps that emphasized long legs, long necks and the overall elegance the couple displayed.

Maybe they should have gone with something a little more upscale for the final dance of the season?

Sanji shook his head, sending a small surge of hair glitter raining down upon his crisp shirt. It was too late now. He just hoped that this last dance, this final performance, would be enough to secure the long coveted trophy.

He didn't even know why he wanted the damn thing. It wasn't as though winning would give him anything other than bragging rights. Sanji knew he was getting paid, whether he won or not. There was just some draw he couldn't put a finger on in winning this final competition. Looking past the bright lights and the cheering crowd Sanji saw Robin, the most beautiful woman he could imagine, coming off-stage with Icerink close behind.

"You look ravishing, as always, my beautiful Robin." He gushed at her when she arrived back stage. The dark-haired beauty merely gave him a small smile and a thank-you as she walked past and reached for a bottle of water. Choosing not to pepper her with further compliments, Sanji turned back to watching the stage as an actual A-list celebrity sang and danced. He didn't even realize he was biting his thumbnail until a rough voice pulled him from his nervous musings.

"Stop being so nervous, it's not any different from last week, or the week before, or the week before that."

Sanji turned and was face to face with the most aggravating man he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. "It is so different; very different. This is _IT_. You know, the _IT_ we've been gunning for since forever ago. The _IT_ that made me stop myself from murdering you more times than I can ever count."

Sanji huffed and turned his back on the dancer. "The _IT_ where I show you once and for all who's the boss." Even without turning around Sanji could just feel the raised eyebrow on the other man's face. Absently he raised his hand to his mouth once more and started chewing on the thumbnail.

Hearing a soft exhale over the music and the crowd in front of him was a bit of a shock. He hadn't realized just how close the two of them were standing. However, before he could step away he felt a rough hand grab his arm and start leading him further behind the curtains that separated the viewers from the wires, equipment and miscellaneous flotsam that made the magic of live TV.

The gruff jerk took him outside and practically forced Sanji's pack of smokes into his hands. Never one to refuse the opportunity Sanji lit up and turned to gaze at the stars overhead as he exhaled. He finished the cigarette in record time and lit up another as he crushed the burning stub. It wasn't until he was half way through the second smoke that he realized the green bastard was just sitting there, staring at him the entire time.

And fuck did he ever look good. The (occasionally considerate) asshole was just sitting there on one of the stone garden dividers with his back against the studio's wall. Thickly muscled arms crossed over an equally well defined chest, left leg perched atop right knee. All wrapped up in silk that Sanji could barely curb the desire to run his hands over.

As if noticing the scrutiny the lumbering idiot perked up and cleared his throat. "Better now, curly?"

"Shut up asshole." Not his most original comeback, but it would have to do. So what if he was nervous, he had a right to be, this was _IT_ after all.

"Quit getting your panties in a bunch. This is just another dance, one we've gone over time and again. You know what you're doing, and you're going to do it fine. So stop with the pacing and nail biting. Nervous wreck doesn't suit you."

Well, wasn't that something. The buffoon had, in his own way, just paid him a compliment. Sanji stood still, waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, isn't that what they did? Say something nice then follow up with an insult; but nothing more was forthcoming. The muscled menace just sat there, watching the chef smoke without any comment, sneer or condemnation. Sanji turned his eyes skyward once more and let that thought roll around his frantic mind.

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>Zoro sat still, watching the smoking blond with passive eyes. He might not like the habit, but even Zoro could admit that the cook made it look good. Watching the lean man with his gaze turned heavenward, curl of smoke drifting about his head like some malignant halo, Zoro could only stare longingly at the effortlessly gorgeous man.<p>

When he saw the curly chef pass up on the opportunity to shamelessly flirt with Robin earlier, he knew that there was some serious worrying going on behind blue eyes. So he tried to calm the idiot down from freaking out too much, grabbed the pack of smokes poking out of the jacket the blond had thrown over his chair and led the anxious man towards the back of the studio to relax for a few minutes. He knew that they had another ten minutes of professional performances and lead up before they were actually expected to dance, so he did what was necessary to calm his partner down. It seemed to be working too.

"You know this is nothing, right?" He spoke quietly to the jumpy man. "This is the last time you and I are contractually obligated to dance with each other, so after this, unless you really are a sucker for punishment, you can call it quits." Zoro was of course referring to the optional 'Mourning Show Tour' that some winners would go on after the season was up and the celebrity wanted to milk their win of every last drop. After all, there was nothing like dancing on breakfast television to really overstay your welcome.

Sanji chuckled darkly and turned his skyward gaze towards more earthly pursuits. Crushing the mostly spent cigarette on the ground the chef let his eyes lock onto Zoro's. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm about done with all of this crap. After tonight I don't think I'll ever dance again. You've probably ruined me for anyone else." Zoro quirked an eyebrow at the curious turn of phrase. If he didn't know any better that almost sounded like…

"Not like THAT you moron! Just, like, I don't think I could dance with anyone else after all of this. No! God dammit! I mean…" but Sanji never got the chance to clarify as Zoro's booming laughter filled the small garden. Watching the blond get so easily flustered over a slip of the tongue assured Zoro that he was calming down from his near panic attack.

"Oh, you can just fuck right off." The self-proclaimed smooth talker grouched as he turned to hide his blush from the other man. "Whatever, dillweed. Let's go before that pink haired kid has a coronary trying to find us."

Calming himself, Zoro gave a lecherous grin as he stood up to follow the disgruntled smoker into the studio. "Don't worry," he muttered into the tense man's ear, "you've ruined me for other men too." Zoro chuckled as his dance partner froze mid-step. Dodging around his motionless companion he threw a smirk over his shoulder and said, "I don't think I'll ever let the studio pair me up with another man after this shit storm." Cackling at the stunned expression fixed on the chef's face Zoro made his way backstage where he was expected to wait until their curtain call.

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>Sanji did not just hear that. He did NOT just hear that stupid – gorgeous – idiot claim that Sanji had ruined him for other men. Oh, he heard the cute little barb Zoro threw in there to dig in the fact that he didn't mean it the way it had sounded, but good grief! There was no way in heaven – hell – fuck, any plane of existence – that he wouldn't be running that little confession over and over in his mind for the foreseeable future. It took several repetitions of Zoro's words echoing in his ears, and Sanji biting his own tongue to keep in an unrepentant moan, before normal thought patterns could resume.<p>

When they did the blond started fuming. Who did that jerk think he was saying such suggestive things right before they had to go on live television and dance? He knew that the walking aggravation was only throwing Sanji's own words back at him, but damn, that was not even in the same realm as nice. Sanji had to conjure an image of Patty – a hairy, dim-witted line cook from Sanji's first job – in a bikini singing some racy lyrics to stave off the hard-on Zoro's comment had caused. Needless to say, Sanji was angry at having to resort to such extreme measures, and was more than happy to follow his personal nuisance to let him know about it.

By the time Sanji made his way back to the waiting area just off stage the stage ninjas were finishing clearing the dance floor of debris from the last performance and were setting up the props he and the green-haired menace would be using in their final dance. Seeing the silk top hat atop the stand in the middle of the floor rekindled all of his previous worries and any angry response to the dancer's teasing remarks from a minute ago flew out the window. He knew there was still a couple minutes before their performance, so he tried to distract himself with going over the blocking for their ridiculous dance.

Sanji still couldn't come to terms with what they were about to do. It seemed so silly, really. They had competed against couples that danced an approximation of lyrics before – most notably was the rendition of "Barbie Girl" done by the lovely Valentine and her whatsit partner – which were total flops. The judges usually preferred orchestral music, at least that's what Sanji noticed. However they were about to go onstage and act out the lyrics to a ridiculous song and hoped it would give them a win. Sanji couldn't believe he'd let himself be talked into this. They were going to lose. Spectacularly.

A bead of nervous sweat rolled down the back of Sanji's neck as he started to dwell on these thoughts. He didn't notice that the show had resumed from commercial break until he caught sight of a hideous pink flash on the recap screen. Zoning back in to the real world Sanji stood still as the host was reminiscing over the 'journey thus far' for Zoro and Sanji. Edited film of previous dances and practices, including their constant fighting, played on the massive drop screen for the benefit of the in-house audience. The touch-and-go week 4 freestyle, the whole-cast jive competition, and of course the infamous waltz costume mix-up. Sanji felt his face heating up at the reminder of the fight that had ensued Zoro's little 'prank'. He could just kill him, no problem. He'd just have to think of a way of destroying the body. Maybe he could serve him as a steak…

There was no time to come up with body disposal plans as that Kody kid (or whatever) urged Sanji and his dead-but-didn't-know-it-yet partner to take up their positions on the dance floor. He thought for only a moment of escaping this final performance before his stubborn nature flared. He wouldn't run. Real men didn't run from anything, let alone a silly little dance competition – in front of a live studio audience – broadcasted live on television and beamed directly to millions of viewers. Just because he was sure to embarrass himself and bring everlasting mockery upon himself and his restaurant didn't mean he could run. He would just have to square his shoulders and resign himself to the next 5 minutes of abject humiliation. What would Zeff think…

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>Zoro caught sight of the dizzy diva's face just as they were taking their cues from Coby. Damn, it looked like all the anxiety the cook had subjected himself to left him resigned to failure. That was not good. He was relying on the curly brow's endless attitude to land them the win. He was under the spotlight now, though, and couldn't stop to give the idiot a pep-talk. He'd just have to incite the prissy man mid dance if he wanted to get this done right.<p>

Zoro received the five second warning that the music's start was upcoming and turned to his seemingly apathetic partner. Aiming his voice just below the microphone's pickup level he addressed the blond, "Come on dart face, don't start disappointing me now."

An eye twitch was the only response he could receive before the iconic guitar and cymbal intro to "Sharp Dressed Man" started to play over the high definition speaker system. Zoro would be the first to admit he didn't overly like ZZ Top, but he could still sing every damn line of their most famous songs. Catchy beats and memorable lyrics, two components he was trying to cash in on with this dance. While he knew only one of the judges actually really like rock music (T-Bone was the best judge as far as he was concerned) anyone with a radio would know this song within the first 3 seconds of hearing it played. He was counting on the iconic song to overcome the judge's aversion to lyric-based performances.

Zoro and Sanji started in opposite sides of the orchestra's stage and walked to the centre while the opening bars played. In an attempt to rile his other half Zoro very openly and unashamedly ran his eyes over Sanji's lean form. White shoes, a crisp linen shirt tucked into pristine Italian wool and a large silver buckle which led a person's eye naturally to what might lie beneath – needless to say the ponce looked good enough to eat. Zoro shot a lewd grin to the indifferent chef and delighted in seeing the flames ignite in his cerulean eyes. He also noted the assessing look the blond aimed towards his own outfit before snarling and turning towards the dance floor.

Deciding then and there to modify his own moves slightly to emphasise how 'sharp' the celebrity chef was dressed Zoro turned to the side and adjusted his own collar while making a very obvious attempt to eye the white-clad behind strutting away from him. He knew the cameras picked up his eyeballing by the titters he heard from the crowd. He only hoped this didn't back fire on him.

Meanwhile, Sanji had moved closer to centre stage when the first words began to play. Over acting, Sanji brushed off his shoulder of imaginary lint and quickly kicked his spotless shoes onto the prop side table placed for this purpose to check for any scuffs on the footwear. He quickly kicked the table aside where it was caught by a stage hand and set aside for the rest of the dance. Then, feigning obliviousness, Sanji lit up his face with a smug smile, as though it didn't matter what he was doing or where he was going because he would look good either way.

Zoro had strutted up behind him and buttoned the fine black suit jacket he wore and then adjusted his tie as was appropriate to the lyrics. Sanji grit his teeth as Zoro lightly knocked the back of his hand on the chef's shoulder and sent a cocky grin while indicating himself as looking equally good. The immaculate blond turned away from his green haired dance partner and they, in sync, started to groom their hair and straighten their clothes, emphasizing their well-tailored outfits.

Together the two men stepped towards stage left and used the precious few seconds between stanzas to kick in some choreography. Just before the next line was set to begin, though, Zoro turned and faced Sanji with a lecherous stare that caused the cook's blood to boil. It was bad enough that the muscled man had flustered him only a few minutes earlier, it now looked like the rhythmically challenged dolt was trying his best to provoke Sanji into blushing with all the lusty looks he was sending his way. Well, two could play that game.

Zoro turned back the way he was supposed to face and held up his wrist, exposing the gold watch that he wore, only to one second later hold out his hand and adjust the gold band encircling his second finger. Flawlessly, he transitioned into scolding the crowd for thinking he was missing any accessory before turning to watch the shining figure next to him check the fine silver cufflinks in his shirt sleeves and then the diamond tie pin just above his heart.

Suddenly, better than Zoro could have ever planned himself, the haughty blond turned and pinned his hand to Zoro's chest and threw out one of the most heated stares Zoro had ever been subjected to outside of the bedroom. As the lyrics were sung out Sanji's hand slid down the broad chest, over the silky jacket only to catch on the belt that peeked out between the buttons. Sanji actually went a step further than even his impromptu planning had designed and snagged the belt and pulled the dancer that single step needed before they were flush against one another.

Just as sudden as the adjustment came they both sprang apart to return to their predetermined choreography. Throwing out their fists in a gambler's swing and swaying their hips to the beat they strut back and forth across the floor. After half a minute they separated from their synchronous dancing and walked back upstage on either sides of the dancefloor. Sanji picked up the white silk jacket that was hung on a rack and twirled as he slipped it on. A sultry look was cast Zoro's way with a hand running through his hair enticingly. Seeing the blond playing it up for the crowd, Zoro in turn unbuttoned his suit, grabbed his tie one way with one hand then wrenched his hair in the other in an altogether arousing display. He sent the crowd of now screaming fangirls a naughty wink as he slid his hand down his front and almost touched himself inappropriately before hooking his thumb behind his belt buckle, stopping short of being cut off the air for such bawdy behaviour.

Sanji, not wanting to be outdone, quickly grabbed the scarf that was prepared at the collar of the black over coat that Zoro would put on in a few short beats. Flicking the white cashmere in the air he spun and took up the other end from behind, leaving the fabric caught between his open legs. Then, Sanji sunk down in a too-quick-to-be-believed bent-knee splits only to come right back up without missing a beat. Zoro almost choked as he saw what the blond had done, and that made it all the sweeter.

Zoro practically ran to the coat rack as the lyrics picked back up, his eyes glued to the sparkling blues of the opposing dancer as he lifted the knee-length jacket off the rack. He turned back to the audience and brought the coat sliding down his arms to settle atop broad shoulders. The blond had just taken up the white silk top hat and propped it atop his head at a jaunty angle. They leaned together, back to back, while Sanji fanned himself coyly. Each had a hand in a pocket and pulled out their accessories as the lyrics ran on. Zoro slipped a slim pair of sunglasses over his eyes and Sanji, now fully teasing the crowd and judges alike, had managed to pull a white glove on half of his hand, but during the appropriate lyric pulled it the rest of the way to his wrist with his teeth. Considering the noise level skyrocketed with this move, Sanji considered it a success.

The two stepped apart and walked in a wide circle to face each other. As they came face to face once more, Sanji slipped the white scarf from around his neck, where he had placed it after his little trick, and hooked it around Zoro's neck as the last line of the song played and reeled him in, almost giving the crowd what they wanted, but letting the dancer loose and even pushing him away as the last word played out.

Once more they stepped apart and returned to the synched up dancing that Zoro had devised. Spins were perfectly executed, the little jive hops were done closer together than they had practiced, but there were no missteps. A few more flirty looks were passed between the two but they didn't add any more improvisations, knowing that they needed this set to make up for the technicality points they lost in the mostly freestyle dance. The music died down and the pair stood shoulder-to-shoulder in their final position, looking for all intents and purposes like they were about to go out for a night on the town, albeit a little ruffled. The roaring of the crowd convinced them that they had performed outstandingly from an entertainer's point of view. They just needed to wait for the judges' decision to see if it was trophy-worthy.

The host talked them off as the pair returned backstage to wait for the commercial break to finish. Both men divested themselves of their suit jackets and grabbed water in the short interval they had between now and the judges' pronouncement. Sanji also took off his top hat while Zoro undid his tie altogether and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. The celebrity chef did everything in his power to not reach out and undo the rest of them.

Robin and Iceberg walked forward to congratulate the two on their energetic performance, to which Sanji just spun and crowed that he was sure Robin would win for her unending grace and elegance. Zoro just nodded and shared a determined look with the black haired beauty. The third couple to dance in the finals, Rob Lucci and his celebrity partner Alvida – a spokeswoman from the Shopping Channel – came over and together they waited the two minutes for commercials to run and the judges to tally up the final scores.

When the three couples were called back out they arranged themselves as per the producer's direction and smiled into the cameras waiting for the final announcement. The three judges talked to each couple and announced why each pair had scored high points and what their demerits were. While the panel wasn't overly kind to Robin and Iceberg based on the tame final dance, they also praised the practically perfect technical skills on both their parts. Alvida and Rob received a lot of praise for their daring cha-cha/samba fusion but they were also reminded of the obvious misstep on Alvida's part in the second half of the dance. By the time the judges turned to Zoro and Sanji, there was still no indicator of who the clear forerunner was.

Mihawk started in on the obvious, "You're already down points for dancing to lyrics instead of music, as I'm sure you're both aware. Care to tell me why you went with such a routine instead of a more practical, technical, not to mention classical presentation?"

Zoro took on this question, having prepared for it since he made the decision in the first place. "I decided I really wanted to leave everyone, the judges, the audience, the fans with something that they will come back to time and time again. I know Sanji and I have had *ahem* a few bumps on the road this season," at which point most people, barring Mihawk of course, gave a laugh, "…but I really needed to set us up with a freestyle that would play off the one thing all of the judges have remarked on since this season began. Passion."

When all three of the judges motioned for clarification Zoro continued. "After every dance we've been told that one of the driving forces of our success has been the intensity with which we dance. It's no surprise that both Sanji and I are highly competitive, and we've driven each other up the wall in trying to one up the other's expectations. This has translated into our performances and it's something that has been brought up time and again. Well, I really wanted to bring that out and while actions may speak louder than words, I thought it was high time we brought words in to drive that point home."

Sanji listened to his partner with a self-depreciating smile. He wasn't entirely sure what all Zoro was saying, it sounding mostly like grade-A BS to him, but he was willing to support whatever the moss head said if it got them the win. There were a few more questions from Mihawk, T-Bone and Tashigi, mostly to do with the decision of which song to use, the flirty direction the dance took and if there was any trouble the two of them had in deciding which partner would act out which lyrics.

Ultimately Sanji didn't care. He was so high strung from the dance and the buildup to it and just having been on a rush since Wednesday that all he wanted at this moment was to hear the results. Just as he thought he would burst from restrained anticipation the host, Bon Clay, made the final announcements.

"Ow! While we have had nothing but winning performances from all of our dancers tonight, there can only be one couple to take home the trophy, the prize money and all the bragging rights of winning this amazing season. Can I have a drum roll, please?"

Sanji gripped Zoro's hand without noticing he was doing it. The tanned dancer squeezed back just as tightly as he heard the announcement of third place go to Robin and Iceberg. It was between them and Rob. Zoro dearly hoped he'd won, if for no other reason than to rub Rob's smug face in his victory once again.

"And now, the moment we've all been waiting for, this year's champions of the 12th season of…" Sanji finally noticed he was gripping Zoro's hand and the overwhelming urge to kiss the man almost made him miss his name being announced as the winner.

"What?! We won? We won!" Sanji screamed into Zoro's face as the blond turned around and hugged the dancer tight around the neck. Robin and Iceberg, Rob and Alvida, Bon Clay and all of the judges congratulated them on their win and the rest of the show was a blur. Sanji knew that he and Zoro had redone their highly praised tango as their victory dance, but he couldn't honestly remember a thing. He knew he'd have to find the episode online and watch it, but for now he was just in an elated state of mind that he couldn't think of anything other than the fact that the show was now over, and he'd won!

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><p>ZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSanZoSan<p>

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><p>When Zoro extended his hand in invitation to go out for celebratory drinks, Sanji joyfully accepted. Thankful that he could go out with Zoro and all of the others and not have to worry about his behaviour, Sanji changed into street wear and followed the rest to a crowded bar a few blocks from the studio. The show was finished now, and he had no plans on going on a victory lap, and instead planned on heading back to his restaurant, his own show, and his life.<p>

So he drank. He drank quite a bit, which was to say more than he should have, but not enough to become sloppy. Sanji danced with every lady he could find, including being graced by the lovely Robin for a spin, as well as asking a few of the men for a dance when the ladies begged off.

This probably explained why he found himself wrapped around Zoro once again, grinding to the heavy base of some ridiculous club song. Sanji came back to full awareness as he noticed a pair of strong hands firmly wrapped around his waist, one inching ever closer to his backside. Sanji focussed in on the three shining gold bars that dangled from Zoro's left ear, and couldn't help himself.

The tanned dancer let out a throaty moan, and his hand fully transitioned to cupping Sanji's ass when he felt the blond man biting his earlobe. This in turn encouraged the drunken chef to grind a little more desperately against the muscled thigh he found between his legs. The song changed and instead of continuing on Sanji was disappointed to note that Zoro was moving off of the dance floor and returning to the group they had come in with. Not that he didn't want to talk to them, because he had actually grown quite fond of the dancers and his fellow celebrities, but his mind was filled with all sorts of fantasies and thoughts he'd been denying himself over the past ten weeks.

He ended up talking to Perona, the stylist from on set, for about twenty minutes before Zoro came back into his field of vision with a tray of appetizers. Encouraging Sanji to eat and to even drink a glass of water, Zoro started to dominate the conversation with the pink haired girl. Sanji remembered when they were getting made up for week two the revelation that Perona and Zoro were close. Neither acknowledged the other as a friend, but they gossiped about each other and harassed each other like siblings all the time. Sanji was shocked when he learned that they had even lived together at one point. Perona made a point of stating it was only as friends as she could never be with someone as uncute as Zoro.

The food was sopping up the excess alcohol in the chef's system. Enough for him to actually notice he was eating some greasy, bar made half-cooked who knows what. He was pretty sure it was meant to be a mozzarella stick in his mouth, but the rubbery texture really had him questioning whether or not it was actually calamari. He grabbed his jacket and motioned to Zoro that he was going outside to smoke. The green haired man finished his conversation with Perona and followed Sanji without any questions.

Once outside Sanji lit up without delay, feeling the brisk air and influx of nicotine start to sober him up. He stood against the side of the club with the dancer in relative quiet, waiting to see what the other man was going to do. They had already exchanged congratulations with each other over the win and he even had Zoro admit he was impressed with the mid-routine improvisations. He was now just waiting to see if everything that he thought passed between them was just for show, or if the chiseled man before him actually felt like there was something worth pursuing between them. Lord knows he's had more than enough dirty dreams starring the green haired performer to get over any hesitations he'd have.

After a long exhale he turned to Zoro, "So are you even feeling the liquor? You don't even look tipsy but I know for a fact you kept drinking after I called it quits." Zoro chuckled and confirmed that he had continued drinking but wasn't overly affected.

"I've had lots of practice, I guess. It takes an awful lot to get me drunk now. What about you though? I would have never pegged you as a light-weight. Is that why you'd always turn me down when we'd all go out for drinks?"

Sanji blushed but figured he might as well answer while he's still got some alcohol in his system to excuse anything he said if Zoro took it badly. "Actually, I said no because I can't really help myself when I'm drinking. Knowing me I'd throw myself on any good looking person who looked like they might take me home."

Zoro shifted in a way Sanji immediately recognized. Trying to hide a burgeoning erection but not make it obvious that was what he was doing. That was all Sanji needed to see before he tossed the filter to the ground and pressing himself up against the other man. "So what do you say, Zoro? Want to take me home?"

There was a sudden switch of positions and Sanji found his back high against the wall and an eager looking Zoro pressed into his front. Sanji tipped his head forward and met Zoro's lips as the other man leaned up towards the elevated blond for a deep kiss that felt long overdue. They spent a few minutes making out against the wall of the club before Zoro released him and Sanji lowered his legs from where they had wrapped themselves around the muscled man's waist. Standing firmly on his own two feet now, Sanji tilted his head to indicate the entrance of the bar.

"How's about we go and get your jacket then head back to your place?"

There was slight hesitation in gold eyes. "Wait, Curly. Are you really sure? I mean, we can't really stand each other, and you just admitted to me that you can't trust yourself when you've been drinking. You sure you want to come home with me? I don't want you regretting your decision in the morning."

One part of Sanji was actually touched at the green haired man's concern, but the frustration Sanji had dealt with for the past 10 weeks overrode his ability to appreciate the delay.

"Are you shitting me right now?" he practically screeched. "You've been a huge fucking tease all night and now you're not going to put out?"

Both of Zoro's eyebrows rose at the accusation. "Woah now, I'm not saying that." Zoro reassured. "I'm just checking that you're sure. Again, you are drunk here and I'm not about to take advantage of you because of that. I was just checking that you're good with this."

Sanji could understand that. With a sigh Sanji explained, "Okay, first off, I'm not like sloppy drunk over here, you know? You shoved food and water into my face earlier and that's sopping a lot of the booze up. That and the fresh air has sobered me up a bit too. I'm in my right state of mind, I swear it."

"Then how come you've never tried to hit on me before if you're so into it?"

Sanji couldn't believe the question. He grabbed his hair in frustration; the dumbass was going to make him spell it out, wasn't he?

"Because of the show, idiot. You think I don't know that everyone tries to make it seem like there's something going on between all the partners? I'm well aware and I wasn't going to ruin my reputation and my ratings because of some stupid rag mag gossip. Come on, you can't deny it." The tanned man shrugged in agreement. "Besides there's nothing more fun that pissing you off." The chef gave his now former dance partner a saucy grin.

Only to receive one right back.

"Nothing?" The too-attractive-for-his-own-good man leaned forward and purred into Sanji's ear, "Oh I can think of a few things more fun than that." The chef couldn't help the small arch of his back at the whispered words. Then his competitive nature flared.

"Prove it."

This time Zoro turned without hesitation and went to go and collect his jacket and say his goodbyes. By the time he returned Sanji had just finished another cigarette, and together they walked to the car.

"Your car's a piece of crap." Sanji noted aloud. It wasn't that bad really, an older model with a few rust spots here and there and one ding on the back bumper. The moss head didn't take the bait though he just turned and faced Sanji with a roguish grin.

"I've got a much better ride in store for tonight."

That smug grin got wider as Sanji blushed beet red at the remark. "Shut up and drive, moss head." Was the best reply he could manage.

"Mmm, that's the idea." Zoro immediately answered. Sanji had to fight back the urge to cover his face so he could hide his blush at the way the moron moaned. How in hell did Sanji not notice the moss ball could be so dirty? Every word out of that damned mouth was obscene, and that's not even taking into consideration the voice he delivered these racy one liners with. Downright indecent.

They climbed in the car and took off for Zoro's condo. Sanji sat quietly for a few minutes; going over and over the fact that he was finally (FINALLY!) going to get those strong hands to work on the right places. He's had to deal with those rough, powerful hands roaming all over his body for the past 10 weeks with no release. Over two months of frustration with having to deal with those talented hands, that smooth voice, those intense eyes and that chiseled physique. He would finally get a chance to run his hands along that perfectly bronze body in proper adoration and worship. God knows he's waited long enough.

As they were stopped at a red light the blond turned and faced the driver (certain that now his blush was gone) and asked, "So if you've wanted in my pants so bad how come _you've_ never hit on _me_ before now?"

With a voice dripping with contempt he replied, "Because of the cameras. Pretty much every second we've spent together has been on film. You never accepted the offers to go out for a drink before now, so I've haven't had the chance to try and convince you to 'take a ride' with me."

That made sense. Sanji figured that the veteran dancer would be ever more paranoid about the whole 'are they or aren't they' match-up game the gossip columns like to play. He's probably had to deal with it several times in the past after all. So naturally the moron would be hyper-aware of his every word being filmed and scrutinized by the viewing public.

"Well," Sanji started, not willing to concede so easily, "you could have tried not being such a dick all the time."

Loud, obnoxious guffaws were his answer. As the light changed and lunatic sped off once more his laughing tapered off and was immediately followed up by, "But like you said, it's so much fun. Besides, I'm pretty sure flustered is your best look so far. I say so far because I'm sure I'm going to get the chance to see a few more good looks on you tonight. I can't wait to see how well you wear ecstasy." What had started off as an aggravating rant was quickly turned around to something salacious.

"Someone thinks highly of himself." Sanji was quick to reply. "Wonder if you can actually deliver."

"Trust me," the grin on Zoro's face was predatory, "I've had plenty of time in the last couple months to think up ways I could make you scream. Not all of it was camera friendly." Another jolt ran down Sanji's spine as his hips involuntarily jumped at the scandalous flirting.

Perfectly content to let himself sit back and imagine all the things the other man could do to back up his words, Sanji kept his eyes outward during the last few minutes' drive to Zoro's place. When they rolled up to the underground parking of a nice condo development Sanji's eyes wandered to the strong features of the driver beside him.

Fuck, the man was gorgeous, and Sanji was about to spend the foreseeable future being undone by this Adonis. He couldn't wait.

Once they were parked and heading towards the elevator, Sanji couldn't keep idle any longer. The blond reached out from behind and let his one hand grip the front collar of the dancer's jacket while the other started to wander about the broad chest. Both men stilled their steps in the middle of the garage and Sanji immediately latched his mouth around the side of the neck his first hand was starting to expose. The moan he received for his efforts was positively shameless.

His wandering hand made its way further down and was just about to grip a jeans clad erection but was stopped just short of the prize. Zoro's grip was strong as he halted the straying hand's path. It was with a clearly strained voice that he said, "Wait cook. Let's get upstairs before we get too carried away." The blond knew that the other man had a point, he was just impatient to start, having behaved himself for far too long in his opinion.

"Lead the way."

They made it to the elevator without further incident. However, when the doors closed there was nothing stopping Sanji from pressing himself to the perfectly sculpted body and kissing the other man for all he was worth. Broad hands encircled the chef's waist and pulled him even closer as the blond scraped blunt nails along Zoro's scalp, pulling at the green hair he constantly mocked. Fortune was with them as no one stopped the elevator before it opened on the ninth floor and both men spilled onto the landing. Zoro quickly located his apartment and managed to unlock it without trouble, despite Sanji's best efforts at distracting him. Together they fell through the portal and managed to slam the door in place before turning their attention fully upon the other.

The tantalizing performer was able to throw off his jacket before spinning around and pinning Sanji in place. The blond scrambled for purchase on those broad shoulders as he was bodily lifted and pressed back into the door.

They stayed there for a short while, tasting each other before Sanji's impatience won out, "Not that I'm not enjoying myself here, but I'd like to point out I still have way too much clothing on."

The other man seemed to agree as he let the blond down and stepped back enough to let Sanji take his coat off. They both divested themselves of their shoes before turning back on each other with feverish enthusiasm. Having taken his cue from being twice pinned by this Neanderthal, Sanji hopped up into strong arms and wrapped his legs firmly around the dancer's tapered waist. Zoro was more than happy to use the position to grab at the cook's ass, and started navigating the furniture by memory as his eyes were firmly shut and his face otherwise occupied. They had a slight fumble as Sanji bit the muscled man's bottom lip hard, which caused him to buck his hips mid-step. Zoro was able to catch himself immediately though.

"Not exactly graceful there, were we Swan Lake?" Sanji just had to comment. They were about to rip each other's clothes off, but he just couldn't help himself in delivering the barb.

"You're about to see how unrefined I can get." was the wicked reply.

They made their way into the bedroom without further incident and Sanji felt himself momentarily fly as he was thrown on top of the bed. He wasn't even able to readjust his position before the green haired man was on him, attacking his throat with teeth and tongue while simultaneously undoing the buttons of Sanji's shirt. The blond heard himself cursing with a vulgarity he rarely displayed and couldn't keep his brazen moans to a respectful level.

Before he knew what was happening, Zoro had sat up and was straddling Sanji's legs while he pulled his shirt above his head and tossed the garment to the floor. The blond used to opportunity to rid himself of his now unbuttoned over shirt and was almost able to strip off his under shirt before the green haired man pushed him back down onto the covers. Trapped within the cotton top Sanji was about to complain before his brain was short circuited when Zoro's mouth descended onto one of his exposed nipples. The breath he had readied to protest with was now unleashed as an unrepentant moan.

Rough hands ran roughshod up and down Sanji's sides before coming to the chef's rescue. With the top now thrown across the room Sanji could see the hungry look in gold eyes, and what kind of chef would he be if he didn't feed that desire? Sitting up and capturing the other man's mouth in a deep kiss, Sanji threw his arms around Zoro's neck and managed to coerce the other into rolling over so he was now straddling the green haired man's hips.

Taking the chance to finally feel up the other man unimpeded by clothes Sanji revelled in the smooth flesh he found there. Every muscle was defined in ways that told of endless hours of work. Each shaky inhale impressed upon Sanji the broadness of the man beneath him, seeming almost too big to be in the profession he chose. That didn't matter though. What was important was that he finally had the chance to revere the godly figure he was sat upon. Sanji moved his way down that carved body beneath him, worshipping the man that had caused the blond untold sexual frustration over these past months.

When he got to the waistband of the dancers' faded jeans he couldn't help the cheeky look he sent to his soon to be lover. Popping open the button, he dipped in with his head and peeled the zipper down with his teeth. Zoro, who had shifted up onto his elbows to get a better perspective, rolled his head back as he let out a moan which should be illegal as far as Sanji was concerned.

The cook helped Zoro shift his jeans down along with the boxers worn beneath and soon they were both thrown to the floor with the rest of the clothes. Sanji stared for a few moments, taking in the completely nude man laid out before him.

Fuck.

A slick tongue eased out of Sanji's mouth and wet his lips as he ogled unabashedly at the flawless specimen before him. Sharp lines defined statuesque muscles and left Sanji breathless with their absolute perfection. This man was the ideal, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to enjoy the act of defiling this work of art.

Sanji lunged forward and ran his tongue hard over the erection lying proudly atop chiselled abs. Using both hands to grip the pronounced hip bones Sanji took the impressive length into his mouth and set about trying to undo the haughty, self-righteous, arrogant man under him. He ran his tongue along the underside as he rose to the tip, and then hollowed his cheeks with the suction he applied there, before swirling back down. Groans of pleasure suffused the air and Sanji felt a rush of power.

Just as he took one hand off the bronzed hip to start pumping in tandem with his sucking, he heard the rough voice of the dancer speak up, "This has got to be the best way to shut that smart mouth of yours up. Put it to actual use."

Using his free hand to grip the shaft and start working it, Sanji raised his head and slowly withdrew the dick from his mouth entirely. "You think this'll shut me up, huh?"

"No, but with a little adjustment..." At this Sanji felt a strong hand grab a fistful of hair and shove his face towards the pulsing cock. Not seeing any real point to fight it Sanji opened his mouth and received the other man's dick and immediately returned to sucking. "Ah, we'll make a useful member of society of you yet."

Chuckling lightly Sanji redoubled his efforts and set his head and hand to a matching rhythm. The grip on his hair lessened and throaty moans filled the air one more. Feeling his trousers tighten at the sounds, Sanji let his other hand fall from Zoro's other hip to squeeze himself tightly. Noticing the split in attention, Zoro secured his grip in Sanji's hair once more and lifted the blond by his tresses. Leaving only his hand to work the shaft before him, Sanji made eye contact with the brute before asking, "What?"

"You're still wearing pants, and that is not okay." The barbarian lifted Sanji's head as far as he could from his position and made to sit up. Knowing this was actually where he wanted things to progress Sanji let the other man go and sat back. Rough hands directed him to rise up onto his knees while the dancer bent forwards and started exhaling warm, humid breaths onto the cook's erection through his trousers. Normally Sanji would protest, but right now, it was fucking hot.

Nails scraping down Sanji's back caused the blond to arch into the teasing mouth further and Sanji wished for nothing more in that moment than for his pants to be gone. Luckily enough Zoro's fingers turned away from harassing Sanji's spine and went to the clasp of his trousers. Faster than one would expect from such blocky fingers the fastenings on the pants were undone and being dragged down lean legs. Rather than take the underwear with them, like Sanji had, Zoro was determined to make a nuisance of himself by tonguing the hard cock he found through the light coloured cotton. Sanji arched further into the heat and a dot of precum stained the front of his shorts.

The green haired bastard seemed content with tormenting Sanji like this, making no move to actually free the cloth covered erection. It was only when Sanji was about ready to scream in frustration that the moss headed moron moved to expose the blond. Once his penis was revealed Sanji was unable to restrain himself and grabbed the performer by the back of the head and practically wrenched his muscled neck in attempt to get some relief. The dancer merely chuckled before opening his mouth and descending where Sanji wanted him most.

With a few short thrusts the blond was panting in relief. He wasn't about to cum, but he wasn't about to cry from pleasure withheld, either. It took a few seconds to realize that he was hitting the back of the man's throat and that Zoro's nose was practically buried in his treasure trail.

Oh holy hells, no way.

Reaffirming his grip on the back of the man's scull Sanji slowly, agonizingly slowly, pushed his way deeper and deeper into the dancer's mouth before feeling himself pressed up against the back of his throat. He pressed a little harder then, feeling himself sink just that fraction of an inch deeper with still no reaction.

No gag reflex.

Sanji stared incredulously down at the unspeakably attractive man only to notice mischievous eyes shining back at him.

As if this bastard needed another point in his favour.

If Sanji wasn't careful his slip of the tongue earlier that day might actually come about and he would be ruined for anybody else. This man was already unreasonably good-looking, with a body like a marble statue, and a voice that dripped pure sex. The last thing this asshole needed was bonus sexual advantages like not having a gag reflex. It was totally unfair.

Didn't stop Sanji from enjoying it, though.

A full body shudder overtook him then and he practically curled around the top of the man who was currently giving him one of the deepest blow jobs he could ever remember. He quickly realized, however, that with his cock buried so deep in the other man's throat that he wouldn't be able to breathe, so he straightened himself an backed away. There had been no struggle at all. No fighting to breathe and no gasping for air once he could inhale again. Just a deep breath and he carried on his merry way.

It was then Sanji realized it wasn't a lack of a gag reflex that let him bury himself so deep into Zoro's mouth, but rather inhuman self-control. He wasn't sure which was hotter.

A few more shallow thrusts into the hot, wet, talented mouth were all he got however before he found himself ripped cruelly out of the blazing heat and thrown face first onto the duvet. He was quickly divested of his trousers and underwear and propped up on his knees before he could catch up with the difference in position. A half second later he saw a toned arm reach past him to the left and rummage around the bedside table. Sanji wasn't able to register more than that however as the other hand started massaging the heavy sack hanging between braced thighs. The heavy petting moved around his waist to grip Sanji's length and he couldn't keep from panting at the suddenness of the change: warm, wet mouth to rough, calloused hand. The difference was shocking but oh so welcome.

Just as the panting was reaching a fevered pitch, Sanji found himself breathless as a slick finger made its presence known in his most intimate of places. He let out a cry at the invasion and bucked back against the digit, burying it deeper within himself. A few cursory thrusts were made by the green haired man before Sanji felt a second finger added to the mix.

"Fuck! What happened to romance, shithead?" Sanji near yelled as he felt himself readjust to the sudden increase in pressure. It had been a couple months since his last fling after all, having been celibate during the entire time he'd been filming the show. Well except of course for handling his own problems when dancing with the unreasonably attractive moron got too hot to handle.

"Romance is for people who plan on making love. I'm going to fuck you so hard into this mattress you'll forget how to come up with those little smart mouthed remarks you're so fond of." The thrusting of slick skinned fingers slowed until they were buried to the last knuckle and a twisting motion took over.

Sanji hid his face in his arms and let out an untamed moan at the words and the change in preparation. Most of his fantasies starring the chiselled performer involved that deviously deep voice, but he never actually believed the buffoon would be good at dirty talk. The feel of those fingers screwing into him, the sound of that velvety voice saying such filthy things, the other hand pumping him in the front, it was too good to be true.

_Fuck, it really has been a while if I'm already half-finished before actually getting it on… _

Sanji felt his balls tighten and was about to tell the other man to stop before he came when he felt those sinful fingers slow down. They were unceremoniously pulled from him and Sanji peeked out from where his head was in his arms to see the muscle head rolling a condom on himself. Groaning at the sight, Sanji started thrusting his hips and fucking the fist wrapped around his member.

"Tch. Impatient much?" the hand was lifted away and Sanji felt it settle on the base of his spine.

Feeling like the smartass he was, he quickly answered with, "You've made some pretty big promises, I'm just waiting for you to get started is all. So far you haven't lived up to your bragging."

"I'm gonna to make you eat your words, cook."

"My words aren't what I was eating a minute ago."

At this point it seemed the hulking figure chose actions over words as Sanji felt the head of a slicked up erection press in at his entrance. Meeting resistance, Zoro pressed until he felt the muscles relent and he found himself driving into Sanji's hot body.

With the invasion, Sanji raised his head off his arms and straightened them so he was up on all fours. A hiss escaped his mouth at the sudden strain at his spine and without meaning to he flexed all the muscles in his body. The gulp Zoro made was audible as the blond's body clamped around him.

After a few moments to gain control over himself, Sanji loosened his muscles only for Zoro to act immediately and start thrusting back and forth. The chef, fully realizing that he was finally with the source of his unending fantasies, started to keen with pleasure. They were only just starting to find a rhythm together when the dancer decided to change the tempo. What was at first short, measured pulsing sped up to a faster, rougher beat. Sanji had trouble maintaining his upright position, and so one of his arms shot forward to brace on the headboard against Zoro's thrusts.

The chef let out an unconscious tirade of cuss words, steadily getting louder and louder and the drumming of the headboard against the wall would change with Zoro's constant shifting between fast and hard strokes to the deep and powerful. Sanji was slowly being unmade and had to give up trying to keep up with the other man, instead just riding along the brute's waves and rolls.

One forward push happened to strike true and Sanji just saw a wall of white flash before his eyes. Dropping both arms he groaned as he fell bodily forward with his head hitting the pillow. A firm grip on his hips made sure that Sanji's lower half remained upright though, as Zoro plowed into him again and again not concerned in the slightest about the blonds faltering.

It took a few moments for Sanji to come crashing back into himself and when he did he felt, to his horror, Zoro slide out fully.

"What, wait. What?"

"That was just our warm-up cook." Zoro rolled the lithe figure beneath him over onto his back before leaning close to the chef's face and saying, "Now it's time for the 'pinning you to the mattress' part."

How was it that everything this moss headed bastard said was perfect? He saw out of the corner of his eye Zoro grab some more lube and cover himself with it before crawling back between the blond's long, lean legs. One strong hand caressed Sanji from ankle to thigh with a longing sigh.

"We're going to have to play around with your flexibility next time, cook. I wanna see how far I can make you go." Zoro positioned himself just as Sanji registered his words.

"What makes you think there's going to be a next time, grass face?"

The devilish look Sanji was sent made his back arch. "Oh, you'll be begging me by the time we're through to go again, and again, and…" Zoro pushed forward with a sharp thrust of his hips, "…again."

A wanton moan was all Sanji could respond with as those toned arms walled in his head and the muscled man began moving once again. The position meant he could get deeper and the blond could feel the stretch burn in the previously untouched spaces. Once more finding the need to brace himself against such strong thrusts, Sanji propped his arms over his head, hands behind elbows as he was much closer to the headboard now.

There were a few more run ins with his sweet spot before Zoro paused to sit back on his knees. Then the dancer pulled a move Sanji had not experienced before. His legs were guided around Zoro's tapered waist and Zoro used his arms to lift Sanji's lower half perfectly perpendicular to his groin. The built man then proceeded to drive himself as deep as possible into the blond with short, commanding thrusts that had Sanji's arm flying to cover the screams he let out at the new feeling.

With a small, circular gyration of his hips, Zoro sent Sanji swirling into a new hell. He was so close, and fuck did that man ever know what he was doing. But he couldn't, WOULDN'T, cum first. The swirling of those hips had the green haired man pressing against his prostate and pulses of pleasure were throbbing in the back of his skull.

There was a shift and Zoro's full weight was pressed in on where he was connected to the blond with powerful hands gripping Sanji's thighs to stay balanced. That filthy mouth with its sinful words opened up and purred, "Come on now, love-cook, I told you I wanted to hear you beg." The grinding was slower and harder and it took everything Sanji had not to reach out and give himself the one tug he would need to come.

Not that he would have had the chance. One of the dancer's hands lifted from quivering thighs and traced oh-so-delicately along the underside of Sanji's shaft. The sudden sensation had Sanji arching himself higher, impaling him further onto the other man's cock. The blond was sure his lip was bleeding with how hard he was biting it in a vain attempt to resist cumming. He let out a pitiful whimper as his taut back pulsed in unfulfilled desire.

"What was that, I couldn't quite hear you?" The bastard ran his fingers just around Sanji's dick, outlining it on the toned stomach. Even with his eyes clenched Sanji could hear the smirk in that rough voice. The bastard had stopped moving and was just pressing as deep into Sanji as he could. He was waiting. He was legitimately waiting for Sanji to beg before he finished them both off.

When a featherlight finger traced the near purple head of Sanji's erection, he couldn't hold himself back any further. "FUCK! Yes! Just fucking do it already you bastard! God!"

A calloused hand wrapped around Sanji in an iron grip. Then that cheeky voice spoke on last time, "How's about one more time with the magic word?"

Beyond the point of caring Sanji screamed, "PLEASE!"

Suddenly his mind split into three as the he felt that rough hand pumping him, the plunging of hips frantically driving into him and his teeth tearing into his bottom lip at the overload of sensation. He came with a violent roar and his back arching so high his only contact with the bed beneath him was his head on the pillow. Sanji's mind blanked out with only a throbbing white rhythm behind clenched eyes, keeping to the erratic beat of his pulse.

He must have missed Zoro coming as after he slowly drifted back into himself he felt the moron pulling out gently. With a quick tie off of the condom Zoro leaned forward and threw it in the waste bin next to the bed and grabbed a few tissues to clean himself with. When he was as clean as could be without a shower the green haired man reached over and grabbed a few more tissues before turning to wipe off Sanji. Who knew the asshole could be so considerate?

Two fistfuls of tissue in the garbage later the chef felt the bed settle with the dancer lying still next to him. Not feeling content in the quiet he started to shift before finally turning to face the resting man and asking, "Any chance you'd get up and get me my smokes?"

Gold eyes opened and looked at Sanji with sleepy incredulity. A second passed before he hummed and moved to get out of bed. Sanji watched with appreciation as one of the most fantastic asses he's ever seen walked out of the bedroom to get him his fix. A few moments passed with Sanji staring at the ceiling before the half-empty packet was flung onto his chest. Without hesitation Sanji lit up as a cool breeze passed by him. He looked to the side where Zoro had just opened a window before flopping back into the messy bed.

Finishing his smoke in silence Sanji thought over the night. They had won that stupid show and he finally got to sleep with his aggravating partner. Glancing over to the dozing dancer Sanji could admit to himself that it had been amazing, and that wasn't the lingering alcohol in his system talking. There was intensity without hostility – a nice change from the overly sappy nights spent with lovely ladies, or the sloppy uncertainty of some men who didn't realize Sanji wasn't a porcelain doll. No, Zoro was aggressive without being severe, although the bastard was a little merciless at the end there.

Sanji tapped the ashes into the lid of his pack and threw the filter into the box. Closing the whole thing he tossed it onto the night table and turned on his side to watch the grass head nap. He really had enjoyed himself tonight. He knew Zoro made some comments in there about next time, but Sanji wasn't sure how long he would be staying here. The show was over and so he would be leaving the city soon to go back home, to his restaurant and his own studio. There was no way he could stay here any longer when he'd already been gone for so long.

Sanji rolled onto his back and stared back at the ceiling for a bit. Truthfully, even though he had signed on for the whole season, he hadn't actually expected to make it to the finale. He figured he could make it half way before being voted off the overly dramatic reality show. Something about that mossy moron however got him super competitive and he couldn't help but give it his all. Now he was five weeks late in going back to HIS reality and it looks like there will actually be one thing he'll miss about this whole nightmare. They may have fought like cats and dogs, annoyed each other to their wits end and just generally made nuisances of themselves, but they also worked well together, pushed each other to be the best, and had undeniable chemistry.

_Fuck._

He knew he had to go back to his life, but he couldn't take Zoro with him. It's not like he could even ask the other man to come with him. This was Zoro's life after all – dancing on national television with minor celebrities and entertaining the masses. He was doing what he loved and getting paid for it, something most people would kill for. Sanji longed to light up another smoke as he contemplated the fact that they just couldn't work out.

Turning on his side again he watched the other man's back rise and fall with each breath. He really kind of liked the muscle head. He was passionate, focussed and had a wicked sense of humour. He knew that the dancer had a softer side too as he's seen him console that pink haired kid from the studio a time or two when Sanji blew up at him. Plus he's got the body of a model and the unnatural control of a monk. The way he held himself with Sanji's dick rammed down his throat…

Biting his lip to contain his groan was a bad idea as Sanji realized his lip still hurt like a fucker from biting it a little too hard earlier. His yelp was enough to wake Zoro from his light doze and he got an owlish look from the other man.

"Nothing, just me being an idiot." He was quick to reassure.

"Tch, so nothing new." Was the slurred reply.

"Hurr hurr, I'm sure someone out there thinks your funny."

"Shut up cook, I need my beauty sleep before I rail you again." And with those words he turned back to face the window.

Sanji was inordinately glad that the green haired dancer couldn't see his face at that moment as he lit up in a fierce blush. How could the moron be so casual about this? Did he not realize that this was a onetime thing? Maybe that's why he was so casual about it. To Zoro this was only a casual one-night stand and it would all be over in the morning. That thought brought Sanji's mood even lower. Here he was moping about not being able to continue this into a possible relationship while the meathead took a nap before round 2. Man was he ever pathetic…

Sucking in a deep breath Sanji tried to look for the silver lining. No, he couldn't take Zoro with him, but he could enjoy what little time they had left. He'd stay the night, cook a fantastic post-sexy-time meal tomorrow and then leave with a fond memory… and maybe an achy back.

Plan made Sanji laid on his back and let himself fall into a light snooze. He might not be happy about it, but that's the way it went sometimes. Maybe the man could visit him once he got back home seeing as how they were now off season. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

The cook drifted off with the idea of an open invite to the moss head to eat at his restaurant if he was ever on the west coast. Who knows, maybe the performer might take him up on the offer to 'dance' again.

~Fin~

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><p><strong>AN: Please don't kill me for not having a happy ending... My Beta was a little upset that they didn't ride off into the sunset together _... **

**Speaking of Beta can everyone please applaud the super-amazing-spectacular-fantastic BlackBarBooks for reading over this and correcting my errors. She is the apex of our fandom and if you're reading my stuff before reading hers you should hop over there immediately and do so. You can thank me later. **


	3. Bonus Scene

**A/N: Sorry, this isn't a follow-up chapter or anything (or someone's happy ending). This is just an extra scene that I wrote but couldn't fit anywhere. It's the 'waltz costume mix up' scene mentioned in the show's flashback from chapter 2. Enjoy!**

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><p>"You've messed up again Goldilocks."<p>

"Don't ever call me that again!" Sanji near screamed. It might have been innocent, funny even in a playful way once, but never again after week 6 of this blasted competition. They had been going over the steps of the waltz that they were to dance that Friday. Sanji knew that they weren't the viewer's choice last week seeing as how they had royally screwed up the Samba, and needed to focus on getting every step just right. Then that tailor came by with the costumes and, like usual, the jumping jackass threw one bag at him and told him to change. However, when Sanji unzipped the bag to check out what he would be wearing, he nearly lost his mind.

"What the ever-loving fuck is this?" He howled; pulling out a mass of light pink organza that floated lightly in the air as it settled. There were ruffles and frills and ribbons everywhere on the fashion disaster.

When the aforementioned asshole just smiled and replied with "Your costume." Sanji was sure he was about to commit murder, on camera no less!

"If you don't admit to joking in three seconds, you're going to be nothing more than paint on the walls, asshat." Sanji couldn't even look at his partner as his eyes were rooted to the dreadful dress in his hands.

"What's the matter, princess?" was the snarky reply, "Don't like the colour? I'm sure I can ask Kin'emon to dye it a fetching shade of purple before we compete. He'd have to match my shirt to it though." Zoro said, pulling out a darker pink button-up from his own suit's bag.

Tearing his eyes from the frilly fabric Sanji sent a fierce glare burrowing into the other man's soul. Only instead of remorse, the frolicking fucker just laughed even louder at the look of utter revulsion on Sanji's face. The longer Zoro laughed at Sanji, the more it dawned on him that there were no declarations of it being a joke, there was no mysterious third bag with his ACTUAL costume in it, and Sanji was both incredibly angry and uncomfortably worried.

There was no way in any level of hell that he would be wearing a dress and waltzing on national television in it. He'd dance naked if had to. Or better yet, clothed in a green-haired skin suit! The idiot seemed to be calming down somewhat, though. So Sanji waited with baited breath to hear that it was just a prank and produce his real costume. Only to be dismayed with the next few words he heard.

"Come on now, it's the waltz. This dance is known for the sweeping dresses and even if you are a guy there's a protocol to this dance we can't screw up, not after last week." There was still a smile on his face but his voice was completely serious.

Oh gods, he was completely serious. Sanji's eyes widened further and his gaze snapped between the dancer and the dress in rapid succession. Sanji didn't care how serious the pirouetting prick was, there was no way this could be happening. He could admit that they needed points after the mess that was their Samba, but this was not going to happen.

Words were failing him. The more Sanji looked between the outfit and the stoic dancer, the more his world was reduced to abject terror. He wasn't sure what he was about to say when the doors to the practice room burst inwards and Kin'emon appeared, frazzled and with a black clothing bag swinging in his hand.

"Oh, Mr. LeNoir, sir! I've mixed up the bags, and I'm glad I caught you before you – what are you doing? That dress is going to wrinkle now, have you no respect for my hard work that you would abuse my creations…" Sanji couldn't even make out the rest of the costumer's rant as relief washed over him.

The garish garb was taken from his hands and zipped back into its accompanying carrier with a muttered disapproval from the tall man. His empty hand was then immediately filled with the hangar for the bag of his actual costume. Sanji looked down at the innocent handle in his hand. He wasn't sure if this bag would reveal slacks, or another fucking dress. He couldn't tell, seeing as how somber his professional dancer was.

"Next time, could you check before dropping them off?" He heard the gruff man scold Kin'emon. "We almost had an incident here. The colour was way too light on _that_ dress and we would have clashed." The moron motioned to the shirt sleeve he still held in his hand.

No fucking way.

Sanji had never unzipped a bag faster in his life then he did right then. He was solely focused on determining if Zoro was honestly planning on making him wear a dress that when he was confronted with a matching pink button-up from to one in Zoro's hand he was at a loss for words.

"Holy shit your face!"

He didn't actually see the green-haired moron fall to the ground in a fit of hilarity. Nor could he actually hear the guffaws from the hysterical man. All he could see was the pink shirt suspended from the hanger in his hands. Slowly, oh so slowly, he replaced the shirt sleeve, zipped the bag shut and walked over to the random piano that was always standing unused in the corner. Laying the bag gently over the bench, he grabbed his cigarette pack, lit up and made his way back towards the bewildered Kin'emon, who stood watching the lunatic roll around on the floor.

Stepping past the shocked tailor Sanji positioned himself menacingly above the distracted dumbass. Taking the cig between his fingers he blew a stream of smoke into the air and casually tucked his other hand into his pocket. "And what exactly," he began, replacing the cigarette into his mouth and raising his leg impossibly high while remaining balanced, "is so funny?" he roared, bringing his foot crashing down towards the laughing face.

Catching sight of the imminent danger, the prick managed to roll out of the path of Sanji's foot and scamper to a standing position. Placing his remaining hand in his other pocket, Sanji allowed his fringe to shadow his eyes as he contemplated which internal organ to make external for the irritating idiot. While the laughing had ceased, there was still a manic smile on the reject's face that grated on the chef's last nerve.

With an incomprehensible war cry, Sanji ran forward and attacked the asshole's raised guard. Together they fought what would become youtube's 'most watched' clip of the week. As he and the moron faced off, those eternally present cameras filmed every last kick and punch shared between them and it was with no surprise that the footage was edited into the night's broadcast.

Needless to say, the make-up department had been displeased with Sanji's black eye and Zoro's scraped cheeks when they were being made over for the waltz that would be performed only hours later.


End file.
